


I don't have the gotta choose blues

by thetolkiengeek



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Biphobia, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Coming Out, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Lance has a tiny breakdown that might be construed as a panic attack, Lance-centric, M/M, Pansexual Hunk (Voltron), Some underage drinking (if you're in the US), This is about Lance's bisexuality guys, bi/pan lance, endgame klance, there's a slur so beware, this is literally all about Lance dealing with biphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 04:51:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13756707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetolkiengeek/pseuds/thetolkiengeek
Summary: 5 times Lance had to deal with biphobia, and one time he didn't.





	I don't have the gotta choose blues

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah yeah, I know I should be working on my other fic, but I really needed to just get this out. I love how much support and love the Bisexual Lance tag gets, but as a bisexual woman, sometimes I feel like a lot of the big issues aren't really addressed. Not to say the fandom is bad about it, but I feel like sometimes there are some questionable things. Hence a vent fic. It's kind of a mess, but it felt really good to write.
> 
> I've based every single one of these situations either on actual things that happened to me, or things I fear the most. I am a cis woman, so I don't have a lot of the same kinds of stigma a bi guy like Lance would, but I tried really hard (just let me know if I fucked up, okay?) And yes, Lance is both bi and pan because they're practically the same thing, but he mostly uses bi because of the history, and more people are familiar with it.
> 
> Title from Gettin' Bi (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend)

I.

Lance was fourteen, new to high school and so ready to take it by storm, tripping over too-long limbs and smiling around his braces. Oh god, he was so excited, and it was going well. It was hard not to love a guy who loved life as much as Lance did.

But all Lance could feel right now was the cold tile of the locker room floor, his short track shorts riding up and his shoes half-tied. Sobs wracked his body, tears mixing with his sweat.

That’s how Hunk found him, curled up, rocking back and forth, silently crying out. All he wanted was to breathe. God, why couldn’t he take a breath?

Hunk approached him cautiously, like he was a wild animal. And maybe he was. Deer in the headlights, life blindsiding him, middle of a crash, oh god where was he gonna land, broken open.

Hunk put a hand on his shoulder. Even at fourteen, Hunk was the biggest guy in the grade, fat just starting to turn to muscle from all the football training.

“Lance?” he asked tentatively. “Are you okay?”

Lance looked up at his best friend, blinking away the tears the best he could. “I-I d-don’t know,” Lance said, voice catching on the sobs tearing their way through his body.

Hunk rubbed a comforting hand on Lance’s back, softly encouraging him to let it all out, that they could talk when he was ready.

Eventually, Lance exhausted all his tears, and finally finally his breath evened out.

Lance looked up at his friend again, eyes wide and stomach hollow.

“I—I tried to kiss Chris today,” Lance said, quietly.

Hunk’s eyes widened a bit.

Lance gave out a bark of laughter. “Yeah. It clearly went well.”

Hunk leaned forward a bit. “What happened?”

Lance looked up, trying not to cry again. “He shoved me and said he’s not a fag like me.”

Hunk gasped.

“The whole time, I just keep thinking,” Lance said, the words pouring out of him as rapidly as his tears were, “that I’m not a fag, that I just tried to ask Allura out a couple weeks ago, but then I remembered that I tried to kiss Chris Trevor.”

Lance let out a watery laugh. “Nothing makes sense anymore, Hunk. I don’t want to be like I am. I don’t even know what I am! I’m not gay, and I sure as hell am not straight, and all I know is it would be so much easier if I were either of those.”

Hunk sighed, resuming rubbing circles on Lance’s back. “I know, trust me, I do.”

Lance let his shoulders relax, let himself feel vulnerable for the first time since moving in for the kiss at the end of practice. “I just…I think it might be easier to pretend for a little bit, just ignore that part of me for a little while. Just so I can be okay.”

“Lance,” Hunk said, “I’m so sorry.”

Lance turned to his friend and gave him a sad smile. “Yeah, buddy. Me too.”

There, on the gross tile floor of a high school boys locker room, Hunk gave Lance the best and longest hug of his life, not saying anything when Lance got tear stains on his football jersey.

—

II.

Lance was eighteen, just in college, and excited to show the world exactly what he was capable of. He had finally grown into his limbs a bit, no longer tripping over his own feet. His braces were off, and his smile was all the brighter for it. He wasn’t the first of his family to go to college, that honor belonged to his oldest sister, but that just meant he had more to prove. He still loved life more than anything else, sweeping up everyone with it.

It was halfway through his second semester, flying high on good grades and shitty booze. A mix of tequila shots and vodka and Gatorade churned in his belly. The floor was sticky and gross, and so were the bodies he was dancing next to, but he felt so light and bright that he didn’t care. It was cold out, but that just meant that Lance relished the warm humidity of too many bodies crammed in one house.

Lance rolled his hips to the beat, grinding on one person, somebody else grabbing his waist, bare under his loose crop top.

They were faceless bodies, hands with no origin, Lance didn’t care. This was a frat house, and that meant people thought he should care, but that just meant that Lance was more determined than ever to give less than two shits.

Lance spotted his best friend in the crowd, Hunk looking a bit concerned, but Lance just flashed him his winning smile, hoping it was far enough away that Hunk wouldn’t notice it wasn’t the same smile he gave him during their graduation, or their trip to Disney, or any of the other times Lance was actually happy.

Lance ended up going home with one of the girls and her boyfriend.

He crept back into the dorm that morning, trying not to wake Hunk, but Hunk was already up, showered and dressed, doing some homework at his desk.

Hunk twisted in his chair and gave him a dark look. “Morning.”

Lance winced. “Hey buddy…”

“Have a good time?” Hunk asked.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? Because last I remembered, you said you were done with threesomes.”

Lance sighed. “I changed my mind. They were both hot, okay?”

Hunk’s eyebrows knit together in concern. “You know I’m the last person who’s gonna judge you, but I’m worried about you.”

Lance abruptly turned and busied himself grabbing towel and shower caddy. “Well, don’t be. I’m fine.”

“Lance, look at me.”

Lance turned around and clutched his towel closer to himself, as if that would shield him from the force of Hunk’s stare.

He was so wrong. Nothing could protect him from the full force of Hunk’s concern. In one look, Lance could see the years of friendship, the conversations whispered at sleepovers about how Lance wasn’t really into the sex thing without relationships. Hunk could see right through to Lance’s insecure core, where in his heart of hearts, Lance knew this wasn’t what he wanted. That he felt like he had something to prove, to himself most of all.

“Lance, just make sure you’re doing this because you’re having fun, not because you think this is what you should be doing.”

Lance gave Hunk a short nod and ran off to the shower so he could pretend he wasn’t crying.

—

III.

Lance was twenty, happy, beautiful, and in love. He grew into a jawline that could cut glass, the years of track and swimming kind on his physique, and his smile was brighter than ever, making his blue eyes sparkle all the more. And people took notice, though in a different way now. He was always a cute kid, but now strangers did double takes, and his laugh brought stares of wonder.

He had made a lot of friends, too. Hunk brought his engineering friend, Pidge, into the fold. They were spunky and weird, and beyond brilliant. And Lance somehow managed to turn a rival in his major into a friend, though Keith still grumbled about how that even happened. And with Keith came Shiro, a young vet going back to school, training to be an analyst for NASA since they wouldn’t exactly let him be a pilot anymore.

Allura was there too, a grad student in International Relations, and she somehow forgave Lance for all his bad pickup lines in high school.

And then there was Nyma. Lance had met her at a party, and they hit it off. She was beautiful and clever, and Lance was happy to be caught in her wake. She thought he was funny and pretty, and now Lance was in love.

It was getting to the end of his junior year, and he was sitting in his bed in his apartment, curled around Nyma, running his hands through her hair. They were making plans for the summer, and Nyma wanted to come and visit him in Florida.

“So I think I can come down at the beginning of June,” Nyma said, scrolling through her phone, pulling up the calendar app.

Lance smiled brightly. “That’s Pride Month! You can come with me and Hunk to Disney for Gay Day!”

Lance didn’t notice the expression that flashed across Nyma’s face, and he kept rambling. “It’s when everyone wears red and goes to the Magic Kingdom, and all the cast members wink at you and stuff. I’ve met the coolest people just waiting in lines at rides.”

Nyma turned over and stroked his arm gently. “I’d love to go to Disney, but I don’t know how comfortable I’d be with that.”

Lance’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Nyma just chuckled. “Well, I mean, it’s called Gay Day, and you’re with a woman, so…”

Lance moved back a bit. “Wait, what? You know I’m bi. You knew this at the beginning.”

Nyma laughed. “But like, you’re with me, a woman, so it’s a straight relationship, right?”

Lance sat up fully this time. “Um, wrong. I’m still bi.”

Nyma frowned. “I didn’t realize that you were still looking at other men. God, I thought we were exclusive, Lance!”

“And I didn’t realize you were kind of a bitch, Nyma. Frankly, I’m really insulted that you’d think I’d cheat on you.”

“But you just said you’re still attracted to guys!”

Lance shook his head. “Just because I’m in a committed relationship doesn’t mean that that part of me just goes away.”

Nyma huffed and turned over. “Whatever, Lance. Let’s just talk about this later and get back to planning this.”

Lance’s chest felt tight through the rest of the talk, and he felt a bit like that boy who once curled up and cried on the locker room floor.

—

IV.

Lance was twenty-one, almost twenty-two, fresh out of college, and ready to shoot for the stars. He was even happier, even more beautiful, and even more in love, this time with a boy who didn’t ask him to be anything other than who he was. He still turned heads, but that might be because he and Keith were constantly bickering. They pushed each other’s buttons, in the best way, and now instead of trying to get Keith to notice him, Lance spent all his time trying to get Keith to laugh.

Lance was so happy, and Keith was a big part of that. After he and Nyma broke up, Lance spent more time with his friends, and at some point, one of them made a move. Which one was still a major point of contention, but it didn’t really matter.

They had started to get serious, like move-in serious. Lance had never felt that way about anyone, and Lance had loved a lot. And they both got into the same grad program for astrophysics, out in California, and they were ready to make the big move.

But before they did that, Lance needed to do something. Something big, possibly earth-shattering.

That’s why he was sitting at the dining room table, facing his mom, dad, and abuelita, telling them about this wonderful boy that he was so in love with. It was the scariest thing he’d ever done, facing his very Catholic, very Cuban family, and telling them that their youngest son was in love with a boy.

His dad asked him if he was gay, and Lance took a deep breath and began explaining as best he could. That no, he wasn’t gay, but bisexual. His dad still looked puzzled, and his abuelita clutched her rosary with shaky, arthritic hands. His mom, though, smiled, her eyes shining with tears, a mirror of her son. Lance and his mom always understood each other better than anyone else, and he suspected she already knew about Keith.

And so Lance fielded questions for a while, but after a bit, he just stood up from the table and nodded to his family, and walked out of the house. His sister gripped his hand tightly when handing the car keys over, and Lance had to keep from crying as he drove to the local coffee shop.

Hunk, Keith, and Pidge were all sitting there, and they looked up the instant he walked in, various shades of worried.

“So…how’d it go?” Pidge asked, always the one to not shy away from questions.

Lance sighed and collapsed in the cushy chair. “Could’ve gone much worse, I suppose.” Keith handed Lance his drink, and he took a sip, smiling a bit at his boyfriend for getting his order right.

“I’m gonna be honest,” Keith said, fiddling with the sleeve on his cup, “I’m surprised you hadn’t come out to them sooner.”

Lance shrugged. “I hadn’t really needed to. I didn’t really date a lot of people anyway, let alone guys, so I figured it was one of those bridges I should cross when I got to it.”

Hunk smiled. “Well you just crossed it!” And gave Lance a high-five, which he returned with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“So, wanna talk about it?” Pidge asked, adjusting their glasses.

“I’m gonna be honest, Pidgey, I don’t think I can without crying. I’m kinda just really exhausted. Can we talk about something else?”

They nodded, though Lance could tell they were bursting with curiosity.

Keith grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers, not saying anything, but just being there, and that was enough.

—

V.

Lance was twenty-three, and in the worst fight he and Keith had ever been in. It was an ugly, gross thing, built out of their insecurities that they never talked about. It had started so innocently, too, just some good-natured bickering that hit a little too close to home.

It was a stressful time. Both he and Keith were working their asses off, with barely enough time for sleep, let alone each other. And that was their first mistake. Their second was not talking about it. And that led to their third mistake, which was deciding the best way to deal with this was by shouting at each other.

Lance, in his anger, started piling things in a bag, deciding to text his other friend in the program, seeing if she had a couch he could crash on. Accidentally on-purpose, Lance triggered Keith’s worst fear, leaving him on his own in the empty apartment.

As he pulled open the door, Keith said something that cut as deep. “I always knew you were going to leave, that I was nothing more than a phase to you.”

Lance got quiet, and that’s when Keith knew he fucked up. Bad. Lance’s pulse thrummed with anger, his hands clammy and shaky, but his eyes filling with more tears.

In the open door, the pale porch light cast Lance’s heartbreak in a sodium-gold. Lance was cold all over when he finally replied. “I have spent so much of my life trying to prove to the world that I exist, and I don’t fucking need it from you.”

He turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him, and texting his friend to pick him up.

He was there for three days before the apology came. Keith knew Lance well enough to know that Lance didn’t want to see him just yet, but he had a large basket dropped off, wrapped in pink, purple, and blue tissue paper.

Lance grabbed the envelope that just said, “I’m sorry,” and opened it up. There, Lance started crying at Keith’s attempt at a heartfelt apology letter. It was by no means perfect, but it was a start.

Lance unwrapped the basket, and it was filled to the brim with things covered in the bi pride flag. There were at least three flags, a mug, and two t-shirts. One with the bi flag, and one with the pan flag, both spelling out “Not a phase.”

Lance called Keith immediately, asking if he could pick him up, and they could talk about what happened, so that they didn’t have to have a fight like that ever again.

—

+1

Lance was twenty-seven, not as young, but still in love with life, and still so in love with Keith. Except now, they had a couple of rings to show for it. They glinted in the bright sun, as they marched with Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk, surrounded by people covered in rainbows and various flags.

Lance, Hunk, and Pidge laughed and linked arms, holding up a sign with the bi, pan, and ace flags, saying “We are not invisible.”

Confetti was everywhere, and Lance was pretty sure he’d never get the glitter out of his hair, but he wasn’t exactly mad about it.

Lance glanced to the right and smiled, spotting his overly enthusiastic, somehow louder than a pride parade, family in the crowd, waving bi flags, holding up homemade signs with horrible puns. His dad, in true dad fashion, had brought an actual boom box that blasted “Gettin’ Bi” on repeat.

Lance blew a kiss to his family, so proud to be who he was. He grabbed Keith’s hand, a little hard given that he was holding a giant sign, but he managed it. Keith kissed his forehead sweetly, and spat out some glitter.

Lance just grinned and held the sign higher.


End file.
